Then night came on once more.
Chapter Twenty Six.
“It was poor old Shanter.”
As was their custom now, the boys were outside passing the telescope from one to the other for a final look round, while the ladies clustered by the open door, loth to leave it for the closeness of their room, when the captain came round from the back and gave orders for closing.
“I think we will try to run down a tub to the water in the morning, boys,” he said. “There surely cannot be any danger now. I have been on the roof trying to make out a fire anywhere in the bush, and there is not a sign.”
He went in after the ladies, and, as Tim put it, the drawbridge was pulled up and the portcullis lowered; but just as the door was half-way to, Norman caught hold.
“Look!” he whispered hoarsely; “what’s that?”
The others craned their necks over the stout plank which crossed the door, and gazed at something dark away in the lower pasture toward the river.